


How To Ask a Boy Out: an essay

by zeitgeistofnow



Category: Spring Awakening - Sheik/Sater
Genre: Aromantic Character, Deaf Character, Friends With Benefits, M/M, and i couldn't make myself finish it so have this, anyway he's chill & hanschen's best friend, bobby has no characterization in the show?, oh my god guys look, plants!!, this was longer when i wrote this but the rest was eugh, why is he always the bad guy????
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 11:05:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15705966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zeitgeistofnow/pseuds/zeitgeistofnow
Summary: “Look, Kitten,” Bobby sighs, long-suffering. “If you like him, just like. Say something.” He pauses. “If you see something, say something,” he quotes. “Especially if it’s a cute ass.”look i just wanted to write bobby maler being a good friend? have this. taKE IT. I'VE LOOKED AT IT TOO LONG





	How To Ask a Boy Out: an essay

“Look, Kitten,” Bobby sighs, long suffering. “If you like him, just like. Say something.” He pauses. “If you see something, say something,” he quotes. “Especially if it’s a cute ass.”

Haschen glares at him and takes the joint from his hands, holding it out of reach. “If you’re fishing for a compliment, you can fuck off,” he says, taking a hit and blowing smoke into Bobby’s face.

They’re in Bobby’s basement, sitting on his sofa and smoking and not-really-watching a home makeover show. Bobby’s khakis are a few feet away and he’s in plaid boxers and a faded t-shirt for a music festival that’s come and gone, the light gray standing out against his dark brown skin. Hanschen’s head is resting on his thigh, staring at the ceiling.

Bobby laughs and Hanschen smirks slightly. He’s never quite gotten used to the thrill of getting a reaction out of Maler, who’d always been a bit of an enigma, lazily taking notes from the back of every classroom. Until they’d properly met, Hanschen didn’t think he’d ever seen Bobby smile, and now he’s laughing at Hanschen’s dumb jokes. But now they’re fucking and best friends or whatever, so maybe it’s just a matter of knowing him better. It takes Bobby a few moments to stop laughing- he’s always a bit more inclined to laugh when he’s high, too- and he assembles his face into an almost-frown. 

“Kitten,” he says seriously, “you’re my best friend.”

Hanschen can feel himself blushing. It’s not pleasant, but he takes solace in the fact that Bobby’s rubbing the back of his neck, which usually means he’s embarrassed, and probably too sober. 

“And I know I’m never really going to get the whole ‘romance’ thing, but um-” Bobby takes the joint from Hanschen and inhales, closing his eyes, “but if you’re not getting what you need from this relationship, that’s cool.”

“Dude,” Hanschen says, grabbing Bobby’s free hand. “You’re the best friend-with-benefits I’ve had. This relationship is great.”

“I’m the  _ only-” _

“Not true!” Hanschen interrupts. “Melchior Gabor and I had a thing before I met you.”

Bobby makes a face- “Ew,”- and squeezes Hanschen’s hand. “Good talk.” he says.

“Good talk,” Hanschen replies. Bobby hands him the joint and they smoke in silence for a moment. Bobby Maler’s basement ceiling is popcorned, little dots of plaster all over it. 

“Okay,” Bobby says, breaking the still. “But I give you my complete blessing to purse that one guy you’ve been talking about forever, even if that means you and I are totally platonic. What’s his name? Ernie? Eric?”

Hanschen punches him in the stomach, ignoring the awkward angle his arm needs to contort to. “You know full well his name’s Ernst.”

“Yeah, I do, you’ve told me enough. ‘Oh, Ernst likes  _ sunflowers.  _ Ernst is an  _ artist.  _ Ernst knows the difference between a  _ llama  _ and an _ alpaca _ .’” Bobby shakes his head in mock disbelief. “He does sound like something, Kitten. I don’t know many teenage boys who know jack-shit about alpacas.”

“You know the difference between a dolphin and a porpoise,” Hanschen says, not sure if Bobby’s making fun of Ernst or not, but feeling the need to defend him all the same. 

“Sounds like you’ve got a type, then.” Bobby holds up his finger, stopping Hanschen from speaking. “I’ll even  _ help  _ you.”

“With what?”

“Texting him about your feelings.” Bobby runs his fingers through Hanschen’s hair. “Your weird-ass cat speech in a no-go. You’re just lucky I’m attracted to morons.”

Hanschen makes a half-hearted protesting noise and takes a drag. 

“Do you have his number?”

“Nah,” Hanschen says, “but I could probably get it. From like, Georg.”

Bobby nods sagely and snatches the joint from Hanschen, putting it out and leaving it on the end table. “How To Ask a Boy Out: an essay by your favorite aro dude. Step one: be sober. Or. Sober-er. Do you want food?”

“Dairy Queen,” Hanschen mutters, then, “I never agreed to this.”

 

_ “Hanschen Rilow just texted me,” _ Ernst signs to Moritz, caught between star-struck and perplexed. The greenhouse they’re in seems like an appropriate setting- almost uncomfortably humid, but bright and green and calming. The presence of all of the plants, Ernst is sure, is the only thing keeping him from freaking out.

Moritz peers at the label on a plant.  _ “Oh. _ ”

_ “He says ‘hi’.” _

Moritz moves the chrysanthemum into their already overflowing shopping cart and frowns at Ernst.  _ “When did you give him your number?” _

Ernst grins at him. _ “Jealous?” _

_ “Worried about your taste in men, more like,” _ he signs petulantly.

_ “You’re one to talk, Mr. Melchior-Gabor-Had-His-Tongue-In-My-Mouth-And-It-Wasn’t- Awful.” _ Ernst points at a plastic container filled with dill.  _ “Are you looking for herbs?” _

Moritz shrugs and moves over to where Ernst is standing.  _ “Some? Get the dill. And don’t tease me about that.” _

_ “I didn’t give him my number,” _ Ernst signs, leaning over to look at some parsley.  _ “I don’t know where he got it, but he has it now.”  _ Meaning that he went out of his way to talk to Ernst. Moritz seems to realize this at the same time Ernst does, and he narrows his eyes at a cherry tomato plant.

_ “That’s great.” _

_ “Why do I say  _ back?”

Moritz shrugs and drops another plant into the shopping cart. Ernst doesn’t think he’s considered the fact that he’s both going to have to pay for all of these plants and probably plant them.  _ “Tell him to fuck off.” _

_ “That’s rude,”  _ Ernst signs,  _ “and he’s not that bad.” _

Moritz abandons the plants and leans against a shelf.  _ “Ernst,”  _ he signs seriously,  _ “do you  _ like  _ Hanschen Ri-” _

Ernst grabs at Moritz’s hands, stopping him from finishing.  _ “Shush!”  _ he signs, withdrawing his hands. 

Moritz smiles lopsidedly at him.  _ “The only other people in here are middle aged moms who don’t know Hanschen or ASL.” _

_ “Any one of them could be Hanschen’s mom! In which case, she would know both _ .” Ernst grins at Moritz, who pretends to look furtively around before resuming examining the leaf of another plant. 

_ “I think you’re fine, Ernst.” _

Ernst’s phone buzzes in his pocket and he takes it out. There’s a text from Hanschen:  _ um. ernst? you there? _

_ “Moritz!”  _ Ernst signs urgently, putting his phone down next to a carton of dahlias.  _ “What do I text back?” _

_ “You think  _ I  _ have any idea? Say hi or something. I’ve never been good at that stuff.”  _ Moritz sets one last thing of flowers into his shopping cart and nods to himself.  _ “Ready to go?” _

Ernst nods and picks up his phone to text Hanschen back. 

**Author's Note:**

> after this moritz pays for the plants with money melchior gave him (melchi fucked up and was like LOOK I'LL FUND YOUR GARDEN PLEASE FORGIVE MEEE and moritz was Up For Getting Free Plants) and they go to the same dairy queen as bobby and hanschen and hanschen asks ernst out on a proper date and they live happily ever after.


End file.
